Chapter Seven
Given the size of the manor, the dining room was a little on the small side; but it was still large enough to comfortably seat the thirty or so officers and technical staff that made up Roland’s command elements. Like the rest of the manor, the room had been freshly painted and redecorated to suit its new owner’s tastes. This translated into a long central table lit by many tall spermaceti candles instead of a large central chandelier with enchanted crystals giving off light. Along the walls were a collection of mounted weapons and shields denoting Imperium’s long military tradition.
Despite moving into the room as part of the crowd, Roland had no trouble spotting us.
“Sasha! Miri! I’m so glad to see you both again. And if it’s not to bold; I do not believe I’ve ever seen you both look lovelier. But who is the young lady with you? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” said Roland as we moved into the room, looking for our seats. As usual his voice was as flat as one that came from a magic mouth spell; and of course, his features didn’t change as he spoke. From past experience, I’d learned that Roland was a very honest person and that it was best to take his words at face value.
What was really surprising was that for the first time that I’d known her Sariel: found something within the Mid Reich that actually impressed her.
I guess a bit of context is needed here. In the first year of the plague, it had become clear that any mortal creature (including the most ancient Dragons) could not only contract the Red Death but die from it as well. However, the real kicker was that the divine intervention that for centuries had shielded people from disease, starvation and so many other evils failed when mortals needed the help the most. The plague couldn’t be cured and those that died from sickness couldn’t be raised. While the God’s duplicity in the plague’s tragedy directly led to The Great Betrayal during the years of madness it also had the side effect of forcing a lot of book mages to look for alternatives.
One of the most radical of these alternatives was created by Gregory of Strasburg. One of the most powerful wizards in the Central Provinces, Gregory was a master at the creation and control of golems. Seeing the potential end of the world, he hit upon the idea of creating a special golem that could house a mortal soul. After months of failures, the wizard finally succeeded in transferring a soul of a gifted military officer, who was in the early stages of the disease, into his first prototype golem body. Then in a twist of fate that only a Bard could think of, Gregory died of plague himself. None of the local book mages could understand the rituals let alone duplicate the result. Only Gregory’s young apprentice understood enough of the basics to even do maintenance on the golem to keep its magically complex systems operational.
After the human/golem hybrid got his mind wrapped around what he was, he decided that the world was going to be in need of every good military officer that they could lay their hands on. So, taking the apprentice, a young girl barely past her tenth year named Keira, under his wing he started to hire himself out as a mercenary captain.
To sum up: the Roland that Sariel met wasn’t a Human, Elf, Dwarf or even a Hobgoblin but a six foot six self-aware golem made of steel, leather and whalebone. Normally he wore a specially constructed suit of plate armour, but it appeared that Miri and I weren’t the only ones who decided to have a change of pace; as Roland wore what appeared to be a noble’s tunic and hose over his mechanical frame.
“Roland may I present Sariel of the Fey Reich, we met only a couple of weeks ago; yet we’ve all become friends since then.
“Milady,” said Roland has he knocked his heels together and gave the Fey a formal bow from the waist. “I take it you are responsible for our two ducklings transformation into swans?” he asked in perfect Court Elven.
“They were always swans my lord they’ve just decided to reveal it tonight,” replied the Fey without missing a beat.
Glancing over Sariel’s shoulder to the large crowd behind us, Roland said, “Whatever the case, I believe on behalf of every male in the room I owe you a vote of thanks.”
“Already have that one covered Roland,” said Riley with a wink.
Roland barked out a laugh and then turned and addressed the room: “Please everyone have a seat this is not only a supper but a chance for everyone to get to know each other in a more relaxed setting.”
As we moved to the table Roland gallantly held out the seat for both Sariel and Miri. Heinrich pulled back a seat for me, but his seat was between Miri and me. I gave him a disproving look, “Sorry Heinrich I’m taken,” I said as I pulled out what was to be his seat and sat down next Miri. Heinrich took the slight in a good light and gave a slight victory nod to Miri and sat down in the chair he’d pulled out for me.
Once we were all seated, and the first course of our meal was brought out, vegetable soup with a dark rye bread and bottles of the local white wine (and a small stein of beer for Keira). Roland; who couldn’t eat, took advantage of everyone else stuffing their faces to start explaining the contract.
“We’ve been hired by the Prince of Ulm for a six-month contract to reinforce his personal forces against what he expects to be several incursions from the Titan Spawn within the mountains west of his lands. It’s been a cool summer in the region and while his land’s crops were sufficient for his own needs past experience indicates to the prince that the Spawn in the mountains are going to be hungry and resorting to raiding to feed themselves,” said Roland.
“Is the expectation that our role is purely defensive or are we going to be able to take the initiative this time?” asked Miri. While her tone was neutral, my lover’s question still had plenty of barbs. When we’d last fought with Roland, we’d been restricted to a purely defensive operation. So despite seeing signs of the Phoenix Empire preparing for a major attack we’d done nothing about it. Something that Miri believed lead to the defeat and our near death.
“This time Miri I’ve made sure that we have a free hand to take the initiative. We can take offensive action if and when it benefits our main mission,” replied Roland; who then continued answering questions from his other officers. As the main course of seasoned cod over rice was served I realized that I was pretty impressed by both the questions that were being asked to Roland and the answers he was giving. They were specific and mostly logistics based. Like Miri I’d learned a lot about working as a sellsword and that it was as important to know what kind of questions to ask about a contract as much as the sort of answers you wanted to here. Both were happening right now which gave me confidence that we weren’t signing onto another disaster.
But it wasn’t just conversation that impressed, the food was excellent and the wine flowed freely, and while it wasn’t the tradition of the Imperium Provinces along the Great Green to make sure your guests were drunk by the end of the night; everyone at the table were well into their cups. Roland’s review of the contract and the following question and answer period had ended: it was time for more mingling. Every gentleman at the table (and several of the women as well) had come up with an excuse to talk to Miri, Sariel or myself; and more than a few had managed to come up with a reason to talk to all three of us sometime during the night. I had received invitations to coffee, drinks, dinner, and one serious question as to how ‘open’ my relationship with Miri was. I was able to maneuver my way through them all without actually saying yes to anything but without bruising any fragile male egos. Through it all Sariel kept up with the self-proclaimed role as our social protector. Her abilities to change social roles fascinated me. At the blockhouse, this morning she had come off as the consummate flirt gaining many promises but giving none in return. Now the Fey was the skilled diplomat; she listened to the many conversations directed to all three of us, and defected or redirected the inappropriate questions away or towards herself. Once she heard that I could handle myself in this social situation, she concentrated on running interference for Miri whose social skills were not suited for polite defence. It wasn’t that s
he lacked social skills, but they were geared far more to ‘social offence’ for lack of a better term. She was a Daywalker, and her social skills were far more suited to seducing a suitable meal to a secluded corner and feeding, than politely turning down invitations. Sariel’s running interference kept everyone in a positive frame of mind and unbitten.
Of course, it was when all the dinner guests were focused on other pursuits that the Demon Cultists attacked.